A biographical flash in Examples of flashs past

During the big war she would waltz with the Jerrys with her wide hips and her blue dress. They’d tell her things and she blew up their bridges. She wasn’t a spy, she just liked blowing shit up and dancing. It wasn’t until after I was born that I had an opportunity to meet her, sitting in a porch swing with a Dobro and a half circle of children, singing the old songs.

She had children once herself, but I was born too late and they were gone. In those days everyone was dying to go away somewhere for adventure or security or because they were no longer welcome. I went somewhere and when I came back to measure the distance of my life, she was gone, dead. So I left again and I brought a date, some potato faced girl raised on corn and ballads and big azure skies. She had child bearing hips and a lesbian’s altitude, and Christ it was a bad idea. So I stole an education and she whelped a few wanes and I grew my hair out.

Took this job in the joint, playing hackey sack with the boys, drinking coffee and playing at rehab. Told us one day we were getting sex offenders and so fucking what, trained us all until we were stupid.

The potato faced girl discovered she was a robot one day and needed to be with other robots and the state decided on damn near the same day that they could use one less joint and I was set free like a hand tied fly on the end of a fifteen pound test line, flying over the river and sparkling in the sun. That was the same year I didn’t win the lottery.

Well, I had learned a thing or two about sex and sex offenders, so I got me a girlfriend and I got me a job, and life would have been completely adequate, except for twenty minutes in any direction I could find God, and so I was a step or two past adequate. I spent a lot of time going twenty minutes in any direction, had a few epiphanies and more than a few beers.

Got into a car accident, lost a few teeth and ruptured a disc. If my job were waltzing with Jerrys I’d be fired. It wasn’t. All I had to do was drag sex offenders into court and take away their kids.

Had this girlfriend from Texas for a while and then I didn’t and my daughter grew bitter and my son got high. Spent a year on a shrinks couch picking at the same piece of gum under a leather cushion. Had drugs, wrote a novel. Did a bit of whoring around, got involved with a bad woman and a lying baby, took a job hawking failure to the overfed.

Too many trips to Vegas to find dying babies missing and grieving mothers in lingerie, I creeped right the fuck out. In the 39th year of my fall I married a woman with a guitar and a honey leather voice and I’m spending the rest of my life getting to know her.